His Best Decision
by Stillenight
Summary: GrimmUlqui. Grimmjow has had enough with Ulquiorra. He goes to teach him a lesson, but a conversation with the Cuarto makes him change his mind. M for language and because I am paranoid.


**I know, I am horrible. I have an incomplete story and I am writing a oneshot. -_- Relax, **_**Invisible? **_**readers, that story will be updated within the month. Maybe. Lol. Just had to write this so I can get some **_**sleep **_**and **_**focus on my multi-chapter fics. **_

**Warnings: Language (this is GRIMMJOW) and possible (?) OOC. **

_His Best Decision_

Ulquiorra never showed any emotions, even insisted that he did not _have any, _and it pissed Grimmjow off. Especially when the Cuarto looked down on the other arrancar for not following his example. The Sexta felt his fury grow every time he saw those hollow emerald eyes or heard his voice calling him "trash." _Grimmjow Jeagerjaques_, the _Sexta Espada_, was _not trash. _If the pale bastard referred to him as such one more time he was going to _rip his fucking throat out. _

Snarling under his breath-another act the raven occupying his thoughts would never deign to do- Grimmjow stalked down one of the many halls of Las Noches. Pulling himself out of his thoughts to focus on his surroundings in case Nnoitra was looking to have a _chat, _he growled at what met his eyes. White, white, white, and more white. Equally blank as the Cuarto's...well, everything about the Cuarto, and the shade was the same as his porcelain skin. _'Why the hell am I seeing the emocar everywhere? Where is he anyway? I haven't caught a glimpse of him since Aizen's fucking tea party this morning.' _Where the other had referred to him by every title he had _except _his name, which only made his fury burn brighter; coming from anyone else it would not bother him, but that little shit...Deciding that it was about time he cornered Schiffer and taught him a lesson, he turned around and strolled back down the corridor heading towards the Espada living quarters.

Finally he reached his destination: the _fucking-plain, fucking-white _door with a Gothic four engraved in black. Turning the knob, he was momentarily stunned to find that the door was _actually unlocked_. _'Doesn't the idiot-Not my problem. Makes it easier for me.' _Casually strolling in, Grimmjow found that the room was exactly as he had predicted: freakishly neat with absolutely _no _personal possessions. And white. Can't forget about the blinding, never-ending white; he would never get used it, though he supposed that the rest of Hueco Mundo was far worse. _'But you could paint walls. Di Roy did mine in shades of blue and Tesla painted both Nnoitra's and his own...Whatever.' _It was only then that he noticed the still-alien sound of water hitting the ground, or in this case the floor of the shower. _'So he is here...' _Smirking, Grimmjow flomped down on the bed and with the decision of waiting semi-patiently for the green-eyed arrancar.

When Ulquiorra finally did exit the bathroom, unfortunately fully dressed and with his black hair mostly dry, he appeared to not be at all surprised to find the bluenette lounging on his bed. _'Damn, he must have sensed me,' _Grimmjow thought.

"What are you doing here, Sexta?" the other's voice filled the air, monotonous as always.

"Thought I'd stop by for a friendly chat. That okay, Ulqui?"

"It is not 'okay'. These are my personal quarters. Trash has no business here."

"The trash knows this, and stays out," Grimmjow responded, intentionally ignoring the implied insult.

"Apparently not, as you are here now," Ulquiorra said.

Sitting up, Grimmjow glared at the other man, silently ordering that he take back that last statement, but the Cuarto simply gazed back lazily. "What the fuck is your problem?!" the Sexta demanded.

"I have no problem."

"Yeah, _you do!_ What's your problem with the rest of us? What makes you think you are _so much better?_"Grimmjow had now pinned Ulquiorra against the wall, eyes bearing into the hollow emerald orbs that still refused to show a shred of life.

"Unhand me, Sexta," Ulquiorra ordered.

"Not until you give me a fucking answer."

Aizen's most loyal sighed before grasping the bluenette's hand in his own and reversing their positions with an unexpected burst of strength. Grimmjow growled at this and flipped them once again, this time holding the pale man's hands above his head with one of his own in a position they would not be able to make a cero in. While Ulquiorra was undoubtedly stronger than Grimmjow and would annihilate him in a "fair" fight, the bluenette was the physically stronger of the two, so the raven would not be able to escape again.

"My answer?"

"The reason why I know I am above you is that I do not let emotion cloud my judgment and think before I act," the Cuarto relented.

"Oh, so you're better than us because you don't let anything effect you? Tell me, are you really hollow inside, or are you acting this way because you don't want to disappoint Aizen and not be let in his room every night?"

"I do not understand, what do you mean "not be let in his room every night"?"

"Obviously, you're his fucktoy."

"Aizen and I do not have that kind of relationship."

"I don't believe that," Grimmjow informed him.

"Why not? And when will you be letting me go?"

"Because you would be perfectly willing to _service_ him. And when we're done with our chat."

Ulquiorra merely raised a brow at the other's choice of words and reiterated that he had never engaged in any intimate acts with their leader.

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"Well...Then why do you not show anything you feel?"

"Because I do not feel anything in the first place."

"Bullshit. Everyone has emotions, even hollows," the bluenette told him.

"Then I suppose I must be the exception to this rule, because I do not."

"Ever?"

"...Ever."

"When did you feel something?"

"I just told you-"

"Then why did you hesitate?"

"It is neither your business nor your problem," Ulquiorra responded, eyes narrowing the most minuscule amount.

"Is that annoyance?"

"No."

"Now you're in denial. You do feel emotions, they're just subdued," Grimmjow informed.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Not sure, I just fucking do. Got a problem with that?"

"Yes."

"Why the hell would you have a problem with someone caring? That's supposed to be a good thing, emocar."

"Grimmjow, we are Espada, the most elite of Aizen's arrancar army. We do not have the time nor heart for such things as caring for one another," Ulquiorra stated, watching as the other stiffened in surprise.

"Did you just call me by my name?" the bluenette inquired. This was the first time the raven had done such.

"...You did not hear what I said after that, did you?"

"No," Grimmjow replied, shifting closer. "Would you repeat that?"

"I said: we are Espada, the most elite of Aiz-"

"No, from the beginning. Exactly as you'd said it before."

"Grimmjow, cease-"

"What? Couldn't hear you. Repeat that first word again."

"Why do you insist that I repeat your name?" Ulquiorra asked.

"Because you have only called me by it three times. Ever. Sounds nice. Ulquiorra," Grimmjow responded, heart stuttering when the palest shade of pink in existence took up residence on the Cuarto's porcelain cheeks. "Ulquiorra, you're blushing." The pink darkened just the _slightest _bit.

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. When have you felt emotion before again? Whenever I say your name? Whenever I look at you? Whenever I pin you up against the wall? I'm surprised I haven't seen you blush before, though you do have all that stupid self-control...We're going to have to fix that, aren't we?" Grimmjow asked, leaning even closer to the shorter man, whose blush had darkened and appeared unable to speak, with his sexiest smirk in place. Making what would become either the best or worst decision of his doomed arrancar life, he closed the remaining distance between their lips.

That decision became the best of his doomed arrancar life. Until after he woke up after his fight with Kurosaki and Nnoitra's betrayal. He had been ready to die, had accepted his fate with Ulquiorra's smiling face and striking emerald eyes in his mind's eye and an unspoken promise to find him in Soul Society, but had woken up in the _white _sands of Hueco Mundo, the hollow world his beloved had departed from whilst he was unconscious. He would never forgive the Woman for denying his chance.


End file.
